


The tale of a birds nest

by giantslinky



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jensen Ackles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantslinky/pseuds/giantslinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is someone new, loud and happy. But Jensen can barely see him, caught in his difficult past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WIP  
> my second j2 fic! Can also be found at my LJ (http://giantslinky.livejournal.com/4808.html)   
> and as always, english is not my first language. Kudos and comments are love ♥

~Richardson, Texas. 1992  
"Mommy, look at the birdhouse! Someone's put a rock in the hole."  
"Jensen, we're already late for church, come now."  
"But, the mama bird can't get to her babies." Jensen watches as a grown Chickadee lands on a branch nearby. It has a worm in its mouth. He keeps looking as his mom drags him further away, the grip around his arm too tight.   
"Mommy please, the birds..."  
"Jensen, enough! Stop being difficult or I'll send you to bed without dinner tonight."  
Jensen cries the whole way to church. His cheek stings. He keeps thinking about the Chickadee and how it flew away when he looked at it for the last time.   
It dropped the worm. 

 

~Olympia, Washington. 2014  
Jared looks up at the shredded sky. He grabs the last moving box from the car and jogs back to the house. Inside, the small hallway is filled with more boxes and he groans at the sight.  
"If I turn around, will you unpack yourselves for me? Please?"  
He gives it a try.  
"Yeah, didn't think so. Lazy bastards" he mumbles before heading into the kitchen. Raindrops are dripping from his hair so he gives his head a good shake, making it rain in the kitchen. He feels like a dog.  
Jared pops some soup in the microwave and plops down on a chair. He looks out the rain painted window. There's an apple tree growing in his small yard. He never really noticed it before. He can see a few red apples swinging back and forth in the arms of the wind. He reminds himself to check them out in the morning. They'd probably be great for a pie.  
The beeping of the microwave startles him out of his thoughts. He goes up to grab a spoon and the bowl of soup. The rich smell of tomato hits him as he carries the bowl under his nose. He suddenly wishes he had sour cream or something. If he's lucky he'll remember to get it at the store tomorrow.  
Jared doesn't like to think of himself as a lucky person. But, one can dream. He drags the armchair over to the TV. He needs to buy a couch too.  
"Alright. Let's see who's gonna keep me company." He channel surfs for a while before settling on a rerun of Life on Discovery. "You'll do just fine, Oprah." He says before tasting the soup. "You'll do just fine."  
Jared had been a hyper kid, nothing anyone would doubt seeing him now. One of the things he could spend hours taking out his endless energy on was water. He loved the ocean and he had this secret dream about flying in the water.  
He thinks about this as he, once again, looks in awe at the lizard running on the water's surface. That would be pretty awesome too. He finishes the soup and turns of the TV right as the clip with the Jesus lizard ends.  
The now empty bowl goes in the sink, together with all of Jared's energy. The bedroom suddenly feels very far away and he starts the long journey up the stairs. When he reaches the top he turns around and gives the boxes a final glance.  
"I'll deal with you in the morning."

~~~~  
Boxes. When Jared opens his eyes it's all he can see. Since he hasn't bought an actual bed yet, the night had been spent on an inflatable mattress. His back sends him no thanks.  
He groans and gingerly rolls to his left. More boxes. He pouts. Because he's alone and because he can.  
"Food first" Jared declares to no one and slowly rolls out of his so called bed.  
After breakfast a long wrestling match ensues between him and all his boxed stuff and Jared is fairly sure he loses. It isn't until lunchtime that he's had enough. He stands, long legs complaining, and shuffles into the kitchen.  
That's when he remembers the apple tree. He looks at it through the kitchen window.  
All that's left from last night's stormy weather, are small puddles on the ground outside. Together with a few clouds they're a gentle reminder of spontaneous weather. Jared watches as a small magpie skips over the green grass under his mailbox. It looks a bit ragged, the white feathers on its back sticking up in tufts. It takes a few more skipping steps before flying over the apple tree, and away. The red apples are glistening in the mild sunlight. There aren't many of them, but they do look good.  
Eating another can of tomato soup for lunch sounds very unappealing. Discovering his new city suddenly can't wait any longer. Besides, he could really use a bird house for his tree.  
Jared puts on his shoes and goes to find one. And lunch. In that order.

 

~  
He has always tried to believe in the goodness of coincidence. The existence of sheer dumb luck. Which is why, when his spontaneous walk leads him right to a wooden crafts shop, he stops and just breaths. Tries to feel grateful for a few seconds.  
He almost doesn't see it. It's tiny. He looks through the windows of a small café and tries to calm his sweet tooth at the sight of all the cakes and cookies. The café is called Ann's´, the wooden sign above his head telling Jared so. And that's when he sees it. The little sign that hangs underneath the bigger one. Old Jones' wood crafts shop.   
Jared looks around, trying to see the entrance to the shop, feeling every bit a big blind tourist even though he actually lives here now.  
Giving up, he walks in to the café for guidance.  
~  
The only customer is an old man sitting in the far left corner. There doesn't seem to be any personnel around so Jared cautiously walks up to the man.  
"Excuse me, sir? Do you happen to know wh-"  
"Old Jones."  
"I'm sorry?"  
"The name is Old Jones."  
"Oh" Jared says and dumbly points at the small wooden sign outside. Jones doesn't look up from his coffee but still says "Yeah that's me alright. But I can't make anything anymore." He puts his hands up for Jared to see. They shake and the left pinky keeps twitching.  
"Traitors." Jones mumbles.  
"I'm sorry." Jared says without knowing how to continue. He looks at the old man's hands as Jones turns the page of the news paper in front of him. They slowly trace after the words as Jones reads but Jared can see that they skip on the sentences, rather than under them.  
Jared pretends to get distracted by the loud, wooden clock on the wall. It's beautiful. Jones probably made it but Jared gets the feeling it would be unwise to bring it up.  
He scratches his neck after a while and says "It must be really hard, having to give something up that you've done for such a long time." Jones looks up at Jared with hard eyes, studies him for a moment before returning to his paper.  
"Sure is." Is all he says.  
Jared is practically squirming, not knowing how to politely leave, when a young girl walks up to them.  
"Jones, leave this poor fella alone. I can hear his stomach crying out for help all the way to where I was standing." She re-ties her apron and smiles at Jared. "You wanted something to eat, hon?"  
"Well I hadn't really planned on it quite yet, but I guess my stomach's disagreeing with me, huh?"  
She laughs. Jared glances at her name tag. Ann.  
"Well your stomach's in luck then because I just took some lunch pies out of the oven."  
"Oh is that what's smelling so good? I need to try one of those then."  
Ann gives him a bright smile. "Great! Why don't you pick a seat and I'll be right there." Jared looks around the small café. There are five tables, Jones' being the only one by the left wall while the others are standing on the opposite side. Even though Jared is a people person, and Jones is definitely someone Jared would like to know about, the time just seems wrong for the both of them, so Jared chooses a table by the window instead.

~ Jensen  
The slanted roof is completed with a final round with the sandpaper. Jensen drags hardened fingertips over the smooth surface and feels for any potential roughness he could've missed. Satisfied, he makes sure one last time that everything is secure. Even.  
The dowel rod isn't loose, the hole and all the edges are sanded. It's good enough. The house is made of birch and feels light in Jensen's hands as he carries it over to one of the shelves by the display window.  
"You'll make a good home."  
Jensen hums softly as he moves around to clean up his working area, feeling the same calm that always accompanies his work.  
A skein of geese flies somewhere above, only their sound reviling their existence as they honk loudly. Jensen smiles fondly and shakes his head. Like a gate that needs oiling.   
He doesn't mean to, but yet he can't help but look at the small calendar on the wall. The fifth. Only three more days till the eight. He sits down on the small wooden stool, putting his face in his hands and completely forgetting about all the sawdust still resting in his palms.  
The eight of October is as recurrent as any other date, but to Jensen it never really goes away.  
He leans over and grabs the old broom. He just holds it tightly for a second before halfheartedly starting to push the sawdust around on the floor, still sitting on his stool.  
Jensen would have liked some more time to settle himself in the realization. But it's hard to reflect when you have sawdust in your eye.

 

~  
A few cars are driving by, tossing brownish up leaves in their wake. Jared watches them tumble back to the ground. Suddenly an elderly man hurries past the window holding a red umbrella in his hand. Jared tries to look after him, looks up at the clear, blue sky and back to the man again. Just then Ann comes over with a huge slice of chicken mushroom pie.  
"Wow. This looks amazing."  
"Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy."  
"I'm sure I will. Hey, do you happen to know if there's any chance for the rain to come back today?"  
Ann frowns a little, looks up at the sky just as Jared has and slowly shakes her head. "Not that I've heard of, no."  
Jared smiles a little and is just about to dig in on his lunch when he hears the aggressive rustling of Jones' paper.  
"They're a bunch of clowns, that's what they are." He's still looking at the crumbled paper but Jared gets the feeling that Jones' is talking to him.  
" Who are, sir?"  
"The meteorologists of course."  
Of course.  
Jones pulls on his cap. "It deserves a fairer portrayal." He stabs the paper with a thick finger."They never get it right."  
Jared sees Ann shake her head before walking through a door to the right that Jared hadn't seen, leaving Jared alone with Jones. And his pie.  
~  
Jared is watching a spotted dog trot by when Ann walks back into the café. She had only been gone fifteen minutes, tops, but she now looks exhausted, her posture slumped. She is carrying an almost full plate which she sets down behind the desk with a hard thud. Jared watches her press her face into her hands. When she straightens out her apron and suddenly turns back around he quickly looks back out the window.  
The dog's gone.  
"He eat something?" and it's the first time Jared sees Jones lift his eyes from the newspaper.  
Ann sighs and shakes her head. "Not nearly enough, no."  
Jared thinks of the Jesus lizard. He wishes this whole situation was liquid. He wishes it was water and that he was a Jesus lizard so he could just run over it and away. This isn't for his ears to hear.  
But instead, he's stuck in the middle of it. He shuffles the last bites of pie in his mouth, flings some bills on the table and stands up. Ann immediately looks over to him. Her smile is sudden, it doesn't really have time to form properly. Jared sees it for what it is.  
"All done?" she says as she walks over to him.  
"Yeah. Yeah it was delicious, thank you!" He pats his stomach for good measure, eyes drifting to the small wooden door Ann had come out from earlier.  
Ann beams, more genuine now. "My pleasure, honey." Jared nods, smiles and starts walking towards the door.  
"My boy Jensen." Old Jones says and Jared sighs, hand already on the door handle. He turns around with a tight smile. "What's that?"  
"Jensen. He's the one who makes everything now." he holds up his hands again. "when I can't."  
Jared nods. Doesn't know what else to do.  
"Good luck in there." Jones says behind him.  
Jared doesn't know why it sounds like a threat.

 

~ Chapter 2, Billows  
Jensen almost falls of his stool. He would have, if strong arms hadn't caught him.  
"Woah." the stranger with the arms says as he gently tips Jensen forward again. "I'm so sorry. I did not mean to scare you. I thought you heard me when I came in."  
Jensen looks up, and up, and is met by vivid tilted eyes. Everything stops for a second. As Jensen looks into those eyes. They look very kind, honest.  
Jensen has become pretty good at reading eyes. Although it isn't that hard. Eyes are bad liars.  
"It's alright, I'm alright." he finally says. "I was stuck in my own head."  
The guy smiles. "I know the feeling." Jensen is still holding the broom in his left hand, clutching it really. The red paint on the handle is starting to come off a little at the top.  
"I was actually just looking for some birdhouses. And I can see you have plenty, maybe you can help me make the amount of them seem a little less terrifying."   
Jensen stands up, wanting to feel a bit more professional. "Of course." he leans the broom against the wall. "That's what I'm here for." He brushes a quick hand over his thigh, sure that some of the sawdust has gathered there. When he looks up the guy is right there. Jensen takes a small step back. Stranger holds his hands up. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you. Again. It's just..you have some sawdust in your hair."   
Oh. Jensen hadn't even thought about that possibility. "Oh." He gives his head a good shake before running haphazard fingers through his hair.   
"So what kind of birds are going to live in this house?"   
"Well, I have this tiny apple tree in my front yard and the chickadees seem to love it. I thought about hanging a house there. Oh and I'm Jared by the way." he throws a big hand towards Jensen who shakes it slowly.   
Jensen closes his eyes for a second. Not much more than a slow blink. "They'll eat your apples. You know that, right?"   
"Sure. I mean I don't mind. I was gonna make apple pie but I honestly don't think my kitchen deserves that kind of treatment."   
Jensen fiddles with his ring a bit, twists it around with the fingers of his left hand while walking up to the display shelf. "Alright. These are the ones we have in right now but if you like a roof on one and the color of another, just give me a day and I'll fix a new one for you. And I'm Jensen by the way, sorry."   
"Jared."   
They shake hands. Jared looks impressed.   
"You made all these?" He bends down over the birch house. "Oh. This one smells really nice."   
Jensen lets a small smile go. "I just made that one."   
The sun is sitting low on an almost transparent cloud. It's sending in lazy rays that climb over Jared's head and land all over the floor were they rock slowly. Jensen watches the light. He sees small dust particles rise in it and thinks about how it's always the bad stuff that rises in the light.   
Dust. Shadows. Bad dreams, bad dreams, bad-  
"How much is this one?" and suddenly there's Jared again, holding the little white birdhouse in his hands.   
"The price is on the bottom." Jensen turns around and walks towards the cash register. He doesn't care if he's acting like an asshole. He suddenly needs Jared to leave. He needs to be alone.   
"I bet I'll look great in the apple tree." Jared says, excited as he puts the house on the desk.   
"What will?" Jensen grabs some thick paper and starts wrapping.   
"The birdhouse." Jared's looking uncertainly at him now and Jensen feels like one of those ghouls, the ones from the old stories, that suck energy out of children, leaving them pale and lethargic.   
"Sure." He takes his time with the tape, sticking short strips all over the paper. Jared probably wants him to look at him but his will doesn't hold any power over Jensen.   
He's just a stranger. Jensen drags a finger over his right eyebrow, trying to calm his breathing. 

"That'll be 23 dollars." Jensen lifts his eyes enough to see the bright green wallet Jared fishes out of his back pocket. Jared catches his doubtful look and laughs, a little embarrassed.   
"I know, I know. It's awful. You don't happen to make wallets as well, do you?" Jared's smiling again, a little bit. He's still fumbling around with his fingers inside the wallet. For a second Jensen's unsure if Jared actually knows what kind of store this is.   
"A wooden wallet. Doesn't sound very practical." Jensen wasn't aware he was being funny until Jared barks out a laugh.  
"Plus, you'd probably get blisters on your butt." Jared says and finally hands some money over. Jensen thinks about his seventh birthday as he searches for the change. They had this small stump in their backyard and his mother always used to tell him about the danger of running near the stump. Don't run close to the stump, Jensen. You know how they are, those clumsy legs of yours. They'll crash right into it.   
But of course, on his seventh birthday, he just had to run a lap around the house. After all, what's a brand new cape without the wind pulling at it?   
The stump seemed to agree with Jensen's mother, as everything seemed to those years. And trying to slow your fall with your hands only seems like a good idea until the palms hit uneven wood.   
That's what Jensen thinks about when he looks up and sees that Jared's still laughing. 

~~~  
It's fascinating. Jared feels like he's in the Life documentary as he watches the tiny birds cautiously approaching the birdhouse. The only thing missing is Oprah Winfrey sitting beside him at the kitchen table.   
It's alright though. Jared's kind of an self proclaimed narrator. But only in secret of course. He leans forward until his breath fogs up the kitchen window when he speaks quietly.   
"And here we see a young mother-to-be chickadee..oh that rhymed. Um, here we see her exploring a possible new nesting place while her fellow flock members continually eat all of my apples." Jared keeps watching for a few minutes before turning around and letting his head rest against the table.

He has to go back to the store. He can't convince himself otherwise. It's like he doesn't even have a say in it. Before leaving Texas, Jared had promised himself to take it slow. He had promised himself to wait, and not fall in love with the first pretty boy he sees, like some overeager teenager. 

Oh how he lets himself down. 

Jensen. Jared doesn't know what it was about that wood smelling, green-eyed stranger. Or maybe it was just that. Maybe those little details were enough the scramble together a little crush. And maybe it had something to do with the way he fumbled nervously with his ring, his low voice or his smooth looking hands.   
Jared doesn't know. All he knows is that he has to go back. To Jensen.   
Even if it's just to get properly rejected, which Jared feels like is the most probable thing to happen. It was something unsettling about the look Jared had seen in Jensen's eyes. Twice he had managed to catch it before Jensen had blinked it away. It was a look that seemed a thousand years old, just resting there. Impatient.

He looks back through the window. If only he were a bird instead. 

 

~~~  
"So. What did you think of him?" 

"Edgar Allen Poe? Well the Raven is glorious in all its gloom, but don't you think Eulalie was a bit pretentious?"

"Don't play stupid with me, boy." Jones taps Jensen on the leg with his cane, waiting for him to scoot over until he sits down beside him. "You know who I mean." 

"Maybe I don't want to." Jensen mumbles. He leans forward and closes his eyes, listening to the ocean in front of them. 

"Did he do something?" Jensen hears anger starting to boil in Jones' voice. 

"He bought a house. Would've bought a wallet too if we had any. "Jensen snorts and doesn't open his eyes until Jones pokes his foot hard with his cane. 

"Ow."

"Jensen."

Jensen sighs and shakes his head. Jared hadn't done anything wrong. Not a thing. Seemed nice. And yet Jensen's hands are still shaking on his knees. There's no one to blame but himself. "He lets the birds eat the apples in his apple tree." 

Jones doesn't say anything, just nods once. He's still holding on to the cane, leaning it against Jensen's leg and Jensen knows exactly why and couldn't be more thankful. Physical touch would've been too much anyway. 

"Did you check yet?" Jones says after a while.  
"I'll do it now." Jensen gets up and walks to the edge of the dock where he carefully sits down. A tiny green larva is crawling over the cement, seemingly heading towards the small patch of grass to Jensen's right. "Hi, little fellow." Jensen spots a leaf in the grass and reaches over to grab it. It makes for a nice larva transportation. "There you go." he whispers as he sets it down in the grass.   
He leans over the edge and spots the small frayed rope immediately. He drags it up until he has the thermometer in his hands.   
"It's 52." he calls back to Jones and tosses the thermometer back into the water. His only response is a grumpy sigh and Jensen smiles as he walks back to the park bench, feeling himself start to relax for the first time in the whole day.


	2. chapter 2

Jared had a cat when he was a kid. Garmon. It was just this tiny little thing that used to sleep in a pulled out drawer in his dresser or curled up by his head in Jared's bed. Jared loved that cat and Garmon seemed at least content in Jared's presence. At peace.   
Unlike Jensen.   
Jared can't help but think about it as he lies in bed that night, sleep seemingly a million miles away.   
Outside the sky holds the kind of dramatic light it always does when rain is near, the trees shining intently, brighter than the sky around them. Jared pulls the covers tighter around himself. He's still trying to get used to the air in this new place. The lightness of it. He takes a deep breath, letting it settle in his lungs before pushing it out.   
His plan is to go back to the store tomorrow. He wants to talk to Jensen at least one more time before leaving him alone. 

He takes one more slow breath. It feels differently breathing the air in, like his lungs aren't quite happy with it. He breaths out and eventually falls asleep.   
Jared dreams about the day Garmon walked out the backdoor and never came back. 

 

~~~  
Jensen remains on the park bench long after Jones has left. Sometimes he walks the old man home but he usually stays until long after the sky has stopped blushing and smoothly blends into the blackness of the ocean.  
The old street light at the end of the pier sprays the calm waves with soft light. The small patch of grass is nothing but a dark shadow on the pavement and Jensen finds himself wondering about the larva. It's probably doing alright, munching away on a birch leaf. If it didn't fall into the water.   
Most things do.   
Jensen plucks a thread from his light blue jeans and stands up. His breath is turning the air around him into a billow of light gray clouds. He zips up his jacket and starts walking.   
It's always hard turning away from it, leaving the ocean oblivious to his absence as he walks back home. The sun will turn blue before the day comes that Jensen doesn't visit the ocean.  
He glances towards the shop as he takes the shortcut straight through the park. The display window is dimly lit and he watches as a young couple stops to look. They're holding hands and the girl is leaning into the guy's chest. Jensen shakes his head at it all and keeps walking.  
There are few things in Jensen's life he values as much as his daily pattern.  
He wakes up at seven every morning, walks down to the ocean and sits there for thirty minutes before going to work. He eats his breakfast with Jones but always eats his lunch alone. He works, talks to costumers and then eats his dinner with Jones before walking back to the harbor and eventually home.  
It has been a strange day in the sense that it broke Jensen's pattern. Because his pattern doesn't include getting to know his costumers. Only it had been more than that. At least in Jared's part. Jensen knows intention when he sees it and Jared definitely wanted something more from him.  
Jensen just hopes Jared realizes he's not worth the effort.  
Inside his apartment Jensen takes a long deep breath, hoping for a calming affect but it does nothing for him. He stands there for a while, slumped against the door, before dragging heavy legs to his bedroom.  
He fumbles to get his shoes off while lying down and notices a twig falling out of the right boot as he finally gets it off. He looks at it. It's from a pine tree. It happens sometimes when he's walking through the woods. The trees follow him home.  
Jensen wishes he could take the ocean home. He could wrestle it all into a big glass jar and keep it on the table by his bead. He would look at it all the time.  
But instead he has a twig. A pine twig. So Jensen puts that on the table and deliberately turns his back to it when he lays down.  
He'll have to toss it out in the morning. Why the hell would he keep a twig anyway.

He 's so close to falling asleep when he remembers again. Three days. There's only three days left.  
And he can't take the realization without falling apart completely. He sits up, groaning when the pain comes. He almost falls over again trying to reach the twig. His fingers clutch it tightly and he doesn't even know why he's doing it, it's just something to hold on to, to hopefully keep him there. Jensen can feel the strong thuds under the grip he has on his shirt and he begs his heart not to panic over something so stupid.  
But it is panicking and it's so, so loud. Inside of him, all around him, the noise is coming from everywhere and Jensen looses the grip on the twig and his shirt in favor of cradling his head and he gasps helplessly and  
-and it's the ocean and it's right there. Jensen can hear it sloshing around inside him. Because that's where it is, the whole entity, living right inside his poor little heart.  
And Jensen breathes and breathes or rather lies to himself that he can.


	3. chapter 3

Jared is excited. Which is probably irrational and unnecessary but still, he's excited. The first thing he did after waking up was to run down to the kitchen and look at the birdhouse. The chickadees had still been there, their tiny bodies slightly white and fluffy with snow.  
That's one reason for being excited. Snow.  
Jared has only seen it twice in his life before. He vaguely remembers his mom taking a picture of him and his dad standing in front on Jared's first snowman. Jared had been five at the time and the snowman had barely reached his shoulders.  
Jared remembers feeling proud.  
He's seeing Jensen again today. That's the second reason. And maybe it's bad luck being this happy before he even gets to talk to the guy. After all, Jared is still fairly certain that he'll get turned down. It's not like Jensen gave him any reasons not to believe that.  
But Jared's always been an optimistic kind of person. Ever since he build his first ever snowman at least.  
//  
He sometimes whishes for shorter legs. Because suddenly the small café is right there and Jared feels kind of sad about this. He had wanted to stay out in the snow for a bit longer.  
He has to go in now though, can't stand outside like an idiot. It's still early and apart from Jones there are only two other customers.  
Yeah. Jared wishes he had walked slower.  
He walks in and deliberately seeks eye contact with Ann. "It's snowing outside. Snowing."  
"Yeah" she says and laughs "I can see that, you brought it all with you. Saving up to build a snow fort?"  
"Oh." He touches his knitted hat and feels the small wet lumps there.  
"Still as excited? You can put it on the radiator if you want." Ann points to her right where Jared spots the radiator under a shelf littered with glasses and mugs. He gingerly drags the hat of his head and lays it down.   
Ann walks over to the coffee pot to refill it and Jared tries his best to ignore Jones. He can feel the old man looking at him though so he turns his back to him.   
"To answer your question, yes, I'm still excited. A little wet hair never hurt anyone. How can you not be excited about this. It's snow."  
"Yeah it is, but I'm not ten years old anymore." She winks at him and holds up the pot towards him. "Here, coffee's on me." Jared smiles and sits down on one of the high chairs in front of her.  
"Thanks. Although this discussion isn't over yet. I won't forgive you until you agree with me."  
She shakes her head. "You drive a hard bargain, sir."  
Jared finishes his cup of coffee quickly. Even though he wouldn't mind spending the morning chatting with Ann, none of them have the time for it.  
Jared has some questions to ask.  
He gets up and he's only one step away from Jensen's door when a voice behind him makes him stop.  
"Jensen isn't here today."  
"Oh." and he feels worried and concerned right away which is probably unnecessary and childish. But still.  
"Can't you read, boy?" And it's not until then Jared notices the closed sign on the door. He turns around. Jones is still looking at his news paper, his face mostly hidden behind it.  
"Is he..is everything alright?" Jones puts the paper down then and Jared almost wants to take a step back.  
"It's none of your business. Why would it be? You're just a stranger." He looks at Jared from under his cap, small eyes never loosing focus of him.  
Jared shakes his head. "Of course, sorry. Didn't mean to step over any boundaries. I guess I'm just the worrying type."   
"Well you can be that somewhere else and-"  
"Actually yes." Ann walks up to Jared holding a big pot. "Jared was just on his way actually. He's gonna go bring the sickie some chicken stew."  
Jared takes the pot from her at the same time as Jones stands up.  
"Ann, no-"  
"He's an adult, Jones. He'll be fine." And Jared knows she's not talking about him.  
She walks him to the door and when they're standing in the small entry Jared whispers to her. "So he is sick?"  
"He's not feeling well right now" is all she says.  
"Okay."  
"Sorry I don't mean to be all mysterious. Are you sure you want to do this? He lives very close from here but I don't mean to boss you around, especially when I hardly know you. I can go after work if you'd rather-  
"I'll do it. But only if you promise me to reconsider snow." He says seriously.  
She laughs. "I promise."  
\---  
There's a note stuck to the pot.  
Pine road 7, apartment 4b

With relief, Jared remembers seeing Pine road the day before and he starts walking across the snow covered park.  
He feels like he's on an important mission, one where time is of the essence. So he makes his steps just a little longer. On purpose this time.  
He just hopes that Jensen won't mind him showing up on his doorstep with a pot full of stew.  
The small pond in the middle of the park is loud with the kind of frantic noise that only comes from a large group of birds. Jared doesn't have to look at the young couple close by to know that they're tossing bread to the ducks. He wonders if Jensen does that too. Maybe he comes here sometimes after work. He could probably get some drying bread from Ann.  
Just because you make birdhouses for a living doesn't automatically mean you're a bird fanatic, Jared knows this.  
But it's nice to dream.  
He kind of hopes Jensen has an obsession like that. Something he could talk Jared's ears off about for hours. Preferably something that Jared knows nothing about so he can ask lots of dumb questions and hear Jensen's expertise. Like birds for example.  
Jared loves learning. His mom likes to remind him now and then of what an early reader he was and if there's one thing that Jared could talk about for hours, it would be books.  
He really, really, hopes Jensen would like to listen to his endless talk about them someday.

//  
The long legs really are effective. Because suddeny Pine road 7 is right there. Jared knocks with a mittened hand.  
Jensen opens the door.  
There's no reason he wouldn't since he's the person living behind it. But still it takes Jared a few seconds to form words when Jensen has suddenly materialized in front of him.  
"Hello." is what he finally comes up with. Jensen just looks confused. Rightfully so, Jared thinks, since Jared shouldn't should have absolutely no clue to where Jensen lives.  
"What do you want?"  
Alright so Jensen's a little grumpy. But he's probably entitled for that too. Jared can deal with grumpy. He holds out his pot-shaped explanation.  
"It's for you. Not from me though, it's from Ann. I'm just the delivery boy." He smiles, trying to bring something other than confusion to the conversation.  
"And why are you the delivery boy?" The question is grumpy, but also slightly raspy and tired sounding.  
"Because she couldn't leave the café and I happened to be there. Also because it's snowing. And I love snow and Ann for some reason doesn't." And finally. That gets a small smile from Jensen.  
"No she does not." He looks over Jared's shoulder. "and neither do I. Fucking thing. Well thank you I guess. You didn't have to do that." He takes the pot from Jared who suddenly doesn't know what to do with his hands. He's afraid he's gonna reach out and touch the paleness of Jensen's skin any time now.  
"It's okay. I wanted to." He stuffs them in his pockets while Jensen takes off the lid to look at the stew. He shakes his head but Jared can see the small tug on his lips.  
"She worries." Jensen says suddenly, still looking at the pot. Jared can see that his hands are shaking a little.  
"And she shouldn't?" Jensen looks up at him then and the little bit of him that had opened up, immediately closes. His eyes narrows.  
"Sorry." Jared is quick to say. "Sorry that was out of line, I don't even know you-"  
"No. You don't." Jensen is holding the door now, looking like he wants to close it.  
"I'll go. Hope you feel better."  
Jensen closes the door. And locks it.  
Jared stands still for a full minute wondering if he should knock on the door just so he can apologize one more time. He decides not to and the snow melts in his hair as he walks back to the café.  
He left his stupid hat on the radiator.

 

//  
The pot doesn't even fit in his fridge. It doesn't matter how many times he moves the milk carton or shuffles around the beats and carrots. There's simply no room.  
He wants to throw it out. It doesn't matter if Ann means well. Jensen knows exactly what it is she's trying to do. It's a gentle push. Right into Jared's arms.  
Fuck that.  
Jensen wants to throw it out but ends up filling a mug to the brim with it, warming it up and sitting by his small kitchen island eating the damned thing. It's unnecessary of her. And Jensen doesn't know why she think she has the right to do this when she knows exactly what it does to him.  
It's unnecessary but it's also delicious. Jensen fills the mug up again.  
He rarely cries anymore.  
But as he sits there, swallowed in his empty apartment, he lets the frustration and confusion take over.  
"Fuck." he whispers, gripping the mug tightly in his hands as his body starts to shake and his breath hitches. Fuck Ann and her good intentions and for thinking that he needs to be fixed. Jensen thought she had finally accepted his choice of living. And fuck Jared for being so conveniently perfect and there.   
A tear falls into the mug. There's a little bit of stew left at the bottom but he has suddenly lost all appetite and pushes the mug away. He wraps his arms around himself.  
Jensen has swallowed enough of his own tears to know that the taste is nothing but bitter. 

//  
"At least I got a walk in the snow." Jared mumbles miserably into his coffee mug. He's back at Ann's. Sitting in front of her again and she's looking through a cook book at the same time as she's listening to Jared talk.  
When he had gotten back and noticed that Jones wasn't there anymore he had just sat down and started talking. First he just explained how everything went with Jensen and then he had sort of accidentally let Ann know that he thinks he likes Jensen.  
"Sweetie, I know." When he just stared at her she shook her head fondly. "I have two working eyes and I know all about the look in yours. Besides, I never would've sent you if it wasn't for your little crush. I wouldn't just send anybody to his home, you must realize that."   
Jared did. It made sense since he could clearly see the protectiveness Ann had towards Jensen even though she looked a few years younger than him. It delighted Jared that she already trusted him enough to let him try and get a glimpse in Jensen's life. But soon he fell back to misery when he thought about just how little that glimpse had been. And how Jared had possibly shattered it with his big mouth.  
"I just..I don't get him. I don't get his anger."  
"But still you're interested enough to bring him stew?"  
"Yeah. It's weird, I know that. It is for me too. All these conflicting thoughts, but sure, underneath it at there's still that pull. I want to get to know him."  
Ann nods slowly and shuts the cook book. "I get it. Jensen will do that to you. Honestly there isn't that much to get. He isn't as mysterious as he can appear. He certainly doesn't try to be. He's just...he's had a rough life, okay? And it's going to take some time before he can let that go." She shakes her head suddenly, looking embarrassed. "Shit" she whispers. "I've probably said to much now. Just..If you do still want to get to know him, do so slowly. Let Jensen set the pace."  
"Alright." Jared's still not sure what he should do. Or how he really feels. But he's grateful for Ann's trust.   
He decides to go home and look at the chickadees some more. And possibly have a three hour nap.

//  
Jones is having a bad day.  
It stresses him out to no end, knowing that Jensen is probably lying in a self destructive ball somewhere in his apartment and not being able to help.  
He can't go over there. Jensen would never open the door, not even to him. Maybe especially not to him. Jones knows what day is coming and he isn't stupid enough to not realize that it has something to do with how Jensen is acting.  
It's not like the same thing doesn't happen every year.  
He holds his cane between crooked fingers and tries to remember Jensen in a way he has never really been.  
Jones watches as The Crab slowly reaches the dock, all the while chugging and spluttering like nobody's business. The small, old fishing boat bumps into one of the tires before slowly settling down.  
The green letters spelling out the boats name is starting to peel. Too many hours under the sun has almost made the C disappear completely, leaving the white paint underneath exposed.  
Jones slowly stands up as Hank pulls open the windows and brings down the small plate on The Crab, hurrying to fill it with fillets of salmon and shrimps.  
The boat was probably as old as Jones and Hank had never been anything but a money crazed loner. But Jones doesn't mind at all when the fish is as good as it is.

He wishes Jensen wouldn't need the ocean as much as he does.  
Sometimes when they sit together on the bench, watching the water, Jensen talks. He talks in the kinds of vulnerable and open way that makes Jones both cringe and feel proud. He wants Jensen to talk to him. But that doesn't make the things he talks about any easier to listen to. But he'll endure, for Jensen's sake.   
No one should need to look for comfort in an endless amount of waves.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WIP  
> also, english is not my first language.

these bones are problematic  
for they are loose and rattle like snakes under your skin  
they don't like it there  
being pillars to an undeserving weight  
you should lay down  
and let these weary bones rest

~~~~  
Blessed are they days he cannot feel.  
The ones that let him stay under the covers, curled up on his side, and just carefully breath around all that is dark and threatens to choke him. The darkness often stays in the corners, arched and pulsing. Ready.  
Jensen spends those days blinking slowly until the darkness either retreats or attacks. He never closes his eyes. Because that would be surrender. That would be creating more darkness were none is needed nor wanted. God he doesn't want it there. Jensen isn't sure when he started this war with himself. Because he knows that it's all in his head. At least now it is. There really is nothing in his bedroom, or at the shop or anywhere else that should make him flinch and sweat.  
Shadows are nothing but shadows until you put the monsters in them.  
It only lives in his head. But oh how it lives. How it thrives with his constant thinking about it. It's a greedy little thing, his darkness. It sure loves it up there. And it takes no regard in the fact that Jensen doesn't want the company. 

Today seems to be one of those days. It's a still Saturday morning, but that's as far as Jensen's awareness reaches. The covers had been pulled around during the night, battling with his restless sleep, and now they're curled up around Jensen's left leg. It's cold but he can't move his hands.  
He blinks and looks at them where they lay limp in front of him. The fingers are loosely curled towards his palms and he wants to yell at them to do something.  
Can't do that either.  
He drifts off, humming around numb lips that has told so many lies they should bleed with the appearance of the next one. Maybe that would get him to stop telling them.  
Probably not though. He's that stubborn.  
Time flows above and below him and Jensen thinks about angels and how they're nothing but dust made magic by the desperate imagination of the humans collective mind.  
He has been told several times in his life that he should pray, or that someone else will pray for him. Pray to whom? he always asks them.  
It always unsettles them and Jensen knows why, knows that it's taboo to ask such a question. But he feels like it's a suitable one too. If he is the one the well meaning people are going to mention in their delusional plead for aid, he wants to know who it is they are pleading to. 

If he were to one day wake up with a heart beating in an invariable way and owe it all to the morning star, a forewarning would be nothing but appropriate.  
Although he doubts that's who they're praying to. He doubts anybody does. They aren't smart enough.  
There's a sound far, far away and Jensen closes his eyes around it, doesn't want anything to do with it. He can feel the sharp pain starting up in his chest again and his arms jerk with it, moving now. Too bad he doesn't want them to anymore.  
But when has his body ever listened to him before?  
Blessed are the days he cannot feel. Too bad this doesn't seem to be one of them.  


~~  
Ann woke before Camilla did. She lays still for a while, watching the brown locks of Camilla's hair and how they fall around her face. She's hogging all the covers again and anybody else would probably find it annoying. Ann doesn't. Partly because she herself tends to boil during night and partly because it's cute. Especially since all she can see of her girlfriend is her nose, one eye and a bunch of hair.  
She kisses her lightly on the nose before rising and walking to the kitchen.  
It's fucking freezing and she skips quickly on bare feet over to the braided basket that stands by the kitchen island. Ann picks up the first pair of thick woolen socks she finds and drags them over chilled feet. She immediately relaxes and looks around the kitchen for Bob. He doesn't seem to be around and she hopes he's at least in the house somewhere. The snow is laying thick outside now and she knows he can't stand it.  
As she watches the white world outside the kitchen windows, her minds drift to Jensen. Since it's Saturday the shop will be closed so he's probably spending the day being pissed at her.  
She puts some water in the electric kettle and turns it on. She wants to feel guilty but there are too many things preventing her. She knows why she sent Jared and that it was an action as selfless as anything can ever be. But she also knows Jensen will never thank her for it. She drags her socked foot over her right knee, trying to warm up some more while putting two tea cups on a tray. Maybe she should call him..but he probably wouldn't answer.  
It's probably nothing. He's probably just fine.  
It's just that she has a feeling and it's telling her to prove it wrong.  
The kettles whistles and she pours the water into the cups and places two buttered scones on the tray and carries it all back to the bedroom.  
Camilla is half awake, sitting up and blinking heavy eyelids. Ann smiles at her fondly and puts the tray down on Camilla's legs as she plops down beside her.  
"You should go check on him" The mind reading thing scares Ann sometimes. She snuggles down beside Camilla.  
"But it's so warm here. And you're in my bed."  
"I'm always in your bed. Besides, I know you won't be able to focus on anything before knowing that he's okay."  
"But he is, right? Why wouldn't he be..." Ann trails of and puts her head down on Camilla's shoulder.  
"Because your gut is telling you he might not be. And your gut is rarely mistaken."  
"You shouldn't be allowed to be wise in the morning. It's way too early and you just woke up. How do you even work?"  
Camilla snorts and takes a huge bite of her scone before speaking, making crumbs fly out and onto the bed. "I've actually been awake for a while I was just waiting for you to get breakfast."

~~  
Jared has a feeling. He is standing in his empty living room and it's suddenly so clear to him that it recently belonged to someone else, the whole house did.  
The walls held memories through hung pictures and paintings.  
It makes him uncomfortable, this sudden awareness.  
He spots the moving box marked Canvases and remembers seeing the one marked brushes somewhere upstairs. 

 

~~  
Thank god she has a spare key.  
The closer Ann had gotten to Jensen's house, the more worried she had become. Jensen should have called her by now and as much as she didn't look forward to being yelled at, an angry call was better than hearing nothing from him at all. She knows how he gets sometimes and she knows that stress only makes things worse.  
So by the time she reaches his locked front door Ann has managed to convince herself that all she's going to find inside is Jensen passed out in some corner, barely breathing.  
She huffs in frustration, making the air fog around her face, when her mittens get in the way of gripping the right key. "Come on already" she whispers to herself and finally she gets the key in the lock and hurriedly twists it and steps inside.  
"Jensen?" It's eerily quiet inside and she peeks into the kitchen, finding no signs of anyone being home.  
Even though she's in a hurry she takes the time to take her shoes off and put them by the door. Walking around, uninvited, with muddy shoes all over Jensen's clean floors would probably upset him even more.  
She doesn't want to risk it.  
She tips around through the kitchen and into the small living room. There's a book on the floor like maybe Jensen dropped it and the stubborn silence has settled in her chest, where it's thickening and pushing at her heart.  
The bedroom is to the left, furthest in to the apartment and Ann takes a loud shaky breath before going inside.  
"Oh god."  
Jensen is lying curled up in the middle of his big bed, panting softly and looking like he's in pain. His forehead is shiny and his gray t-shirt is soaked with sweat.  
"Jensen!" She rushes to him and kneels in front of him, gently brushing his sweaty hair back. "Jensen, can you hear me?" His eyes are open but just to tiny slits. He doesn't seem to see her. She knows all about this. Jensen's condition. She therefore also knows that he wants to stay right where he is, opposed to going to the hospital.  
But Ann doesn't know if she should listen to what Jensen wants right now.  
She's known for years but has never witnessed him having one of these episodes. They don't come that often, which is a blessing.  
He looks awful. Gray and cold and so, so sick. The way he's curled in on himself, with his arms tucked in front of him also makes him look a lot younger.  
She strokes his back before standing up. "It's okay, sweetie. I'll just- I'll be right back, okay?" Jensen lets out a small sound, a pained whimper, almost like he doesn't want her to go.  
She hurries out of the room. 

~~  
It's an amazing place, Jared realizes as he sets his easel down in front of him.  
After walking around for a bit he had found the small harbor and decided that a painting of the ocean would probably fit nicely somewhere in his small, new home.  
He had spotted a small wooden barrel standing behind him by the closed tea shop and dragged it over to the bench he put the easel by. It'll be a fine table to put his brushes and paint on.  
Art is something that sort of happened to him. It was never a childhood hobby that he fought hard to maintain and improve. It was never anything he was encouraged to try.  
It was just there in his life one day. Right there. Without giving him the option to ignore it.  
He comes from a family of tender hands and he hopes that it won't end up being his curse one day.  
For now, it isn't.  
He blends the blue with the white and lets the brush move freely within the loose grip of his gentle hand.  
~~  
When Ann returns, clutching a cold wet towel, Jensen has moved a little, straightening one leg while curling the other towards himself even tighter.  
"Hi, babe." she whispers and kneels in front of him once again. "you doing any better?" She starts gently running the towel over his sweaty forehead, waiting for him to answer.  
"Hur'ss. There w´s water inside.." what the hell? His whispered words only terrify her more. His eyes look a little clearer though, never loosing focus on her. "Okay, okay." she says even though it probably isn't. She puts a shaking hand over his chest, feels his heart bumping against her palm. Too fast. He grunts suddenly, making an awful choking sound.  
"Jensen!" Ann drops the towel and carefully lifts him into a sitting position, at the same time as she sits on the bed behind him, leaning him against her. He settles fairly quick but she doesn't miss the low whistling sound that escapes him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembers Jensen telling her exactly about this. That this is just how it goes. It'll hurt for a while and he'll get feverish and groggy. But then it'll just go away.  
She's praying that they're near the end now. Because it's fucking scary.


	5. chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick, tiny update to let you all know that I'm alive and so is the story!

Somewhere amongst all the pitiful pain and confusion, Jensen falls asleep. He has never been able to do so when this has happened before.

There is something soft.

He carefully opens his eyes and drags a shaking hand over the covers.

Bed. He's still in his bed. But there is something else. Something soft behind him that's...moving.

_What?_

"What?" he croaks, unsure.

"Oh, you're awake! Fuck, thank god! You scared me so much, you idiot. Is it this bad every time?"

Oh. Ann. Who is way too much to handle for Jensen in his newly conscious state. He closes his eyes again.

"Hey. No, no, no. Jensen! Don't you fall asleep on me again. Come on, you're heavy for someone who's so scrawny." He can't help but smile a tired little smile when he feels her wiggle behind him, making his head sway from side to side.

"M 'wake stop moving 'round."

"If you open your eyes first."

He does. "You're bossy."

"Consider it my survival instinct. I need to see that you're okay before I have a heart attack!"

"Funny. I thought _I_ was the one with the nonfunctional heart."

"Jensen..." He feels her small hands gently massaging his scalp.

"I know." he whispers. "It isn't funny. Sorry." He turns over a bit so he can look out the window. It's snowing again.

"Thanks for being here." he says after a while because he could never enjoy the silence with company.

"Of course, babe." Her fingers still in his hair and Jensen can feel the hesitation in the stillness. She starts moving them again, scratching above his right ear. "I'm sorry about Jared, I think I stepped about a million miles over the line."

And that's when he remembers everything. He remembers opening the door and seeing a nervous looking Jared smiling at him, holding Ann's stew. He also remembers the anger, the hurt. All the memories and emotions hit him with nauseating speed but all he says is

"It's okay." and really, it is. Because mostly he's mad at himself. He feels her chest expand in a yawn behind him and guilt seeps into his aching chest.

"You should go" he tells her. She always worries about him but still, he isn't used to all this fuss. He's glad he doesn't have to look her in the eyes at least. She would probably see something ugly in his.

Like the truth perhaps.

"I don't know...I won't convince you to let me stay but...Jensen you're still really pale." and suddenly her whole palm is resting against his forehead.

"You don't get a fever from a decaying heart."

"I'm just making sure. And don't call it that it's-"

"Disgusting?"

"Well yeah, the pictures in my head at least are."

Jensen thinks about the flowers that live between the rocks on the small beach. He doesn't know their name but he always remembers their tint of blue vividly. It reminds him of frothy waves on a pale morning and he always envies them for not being able to look away from that sort of view.

He thinks about them because they have something in common. They're fragile, you see. Jensen can admit that he is, because even though he is a good liar, he isn't good enough to convince himself that he is a solid presence. That he is strong. He remembers how the ocean had felt inside him just a few hours before. A strong wave would be fatal for both him and the small flowers. A burly wind would crush their petals and squeeze his heart. A storm would break their stems and snap his veins.

And just like the little blue flowers on the pebbled beach, Jensen's heart would wilt without oxygen.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't register that he's moving until his head softly hits the pillows and Ann is suddenly in front of him and he can see just how this whole thing was for her. Her lips are twitching were they are trying to form a smile and the skin around her eyes is red.

"I'm going then. If you're _sure_ you don't want me to stay." she looks at him almost hopefully but Jensen mostly sees the fatigue and relief in her eyes.

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Don't spend the night dying otherwise I wasted all day trying to keep you alive." she drags the comforter up over his body and winks at him when he smiles.

"I'll try my best."

"Not good enough."

"Fine. I won't. I _promise._ " even though he really can't.  

She bends down and gives him a quick awkward hug before walking out of the room. Jensen curls up on his side once again and falls asleep.


	6. hush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know...this is LATE and SHORT ughhh but I've been crazy sick yeah that isn't even a proper excuse since this has taken so long...hope you all enjoy anyways   
> xx

When Jensen wakes up, he feels better. But only in the sense that his body now feels calm. All his muscles are relaxed where they lay within his tired limbs.

He was only asleep for a few hours, he can tell. The sun has crept a bit lower, half hid behind the pine trees that grow besides Jensen's apartment. It's still Saturday and Jensen relaxes even more into the soft bedding surrounding him. He's hungry, which is a good sign. Maybe there are some carrots or something in his fridge.

He isn't very good with planning. At least not when it comes to food.

He carefully rolls towards the edge of the bed, and that's when he sees it. The twig. It's still there and  suddenly it's the most annoying thing in Jensen's presence. He carefully stands up and grabs the small twig in his hand.

Now what?

He wants to get rid of it. It doesn't belong in his apartment. It feels like an intruder.

_Clean up your damn room, Jensen. If you love the outdoors so much, keep it separated from inside. There's pine cones and shit all over the carpet. Jensen!_

He opens his bedroom window and tosses the twig outside. It  spins in the air before hitting the grass with a small bounce. Jensen closes the window and trudges into the kitchen. He'll go for a walk later, just to be able to feel his bones moving.

 

~~~~~~~

When Ann finally gets back home, she's ready to collapse. Camilla is waiting for her in the kitchen, a batch of pancakes sitting ready on the kitchen island. When she hears Ann at the door, she's up and walking towards her before Ann has even gotten her shoes off.

"Hi. How was he? You were there a really long time." Camilla says quietly into Ann's hair as she hugs her.

Ann shrugs tiredly and just leans on Camilla for a while. It feels so _safe_ and familiar and it's all that she needs right now. They stand there in silence, Camilla swaying them a little when Ann feels something stroking her leg.

"Hello there, old chap." Bob purrs and looks up at them with big blue eyes. Ann lifts him up. "Have you fed him today?" Camilla raises an eyebrow and stares at her. "Since when did you start worrying about him not having enough food? You called him fat like four times yesterday. But yes I did feed him an enormous breakfast as usual. Can't you feel all those little anchovies sloshing around in his big cat-belly?

Ann laughs and rubs the fluffy belly while Bob stretches in her arms, delighted but oblivious about all the talk about his body."

~~~~~~~

"How did you to that?"

Jared jumps, luckily drawing his hand toward himself and avoiding any accidental brush strokes on the painting. He turns around and finds Jensen standing close behind him, staring at the canvas. The distant dim sunlight doesn't let him see much of Jensen's futures. But Jared sees enough. The flattened hair, glossy eyes.

"Um. Do what?" Jared looks back at his painting.

"It's right _there._ "

Jared looks over his shoulder again and watches Jensen's expression. It's one of awe and it makes Jensen's eyes look open and soft. Jared can't stop looking at him as Jensen continues to talk in a very low voice, almost whispering.

"The ocean...not just as a body of water but as something alive..you got the quintessence of it right there. That's...wow." He nods a little to himself and Jared feels his chest quiver with Jensen's words. He smiles at him.

"Thank you so much. That...I'm going to try to remember that, those exact words. That's great critic."

"Is it finished?"

Jared rolls the brush in the palm of his right hand and looks up at what's in front of him. He can now see how the setting sun has given way to pinking clouds that float almost shyly behind her. It gives the water a softer look and Jared grips the brush between his fingers again.

"Not quite yet."

Jensen nods. His mouth telling Jared little, but his eyes clearly show excitement. Jared almost doesn't dare breath in fear of breaking the moment.

"Do you mind if I just watch for a little while? I'll be quiet."

"No of course, I would love some company. You don't even have to be quiet." Jared smiles wide at Jensen who takes a seat at the far edge of the bench Jared's sitting on. Jared isn't bothered. He can't expect closeness yet and he's trying to keep the shock from hearing Jensen speak to him, invisible.

Jared dips his brush in the pink smear of color and slowly starts painting again. Jensen sits quietly and Jared is both stressed and motivated by the eyes he can feel are following every move of his hand.

"So tell me about it." he says after a while. He doesn't mind Jensen being silent either. But he realizes that this is chance at redemption. Hope doesn't seem to be lost.

"About what?" Jensen still doesn't take his eyes off the painting.

"The ocean."

"It's my constant."

After that, Jensen doesn't stop talking until night falls around them.


End file.
